


Here's to the Ones Who Dream

by Impalapossible



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, First Meeting, Fluff, really sweet fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-21 23:53:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8265016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impalapossible/pseuds/Impalapossible
Summary: Based off the song “Audition” by Emma Stone , the reader ends up having a far more eventful morning that she ever could have planned on when she met Sam Winchester in a cafe.





	

You received many confused looks as you twirled down the sidewalk on your way home from work. Neighbors cast judgmental glances and passersby moved out of your way. Normally, you would adjust yourself to act normally, but not after the most majestic of morning moments you had ever experienced. Your feet danced across the smooth pavement as if you were floating on air, and you didn’t care who saw it. 

If only you could set this moment in a frame. The way he had looked up at you from behind his laptop across that cafe before coming over. The feeling of his knees as they accidentally grazed your own underneath that table while he took a seat in front of you. His tiny chuckles and longing gazes that emanating from those hazel eyes. 

A dreamy sigh escaped your lips. Continuing on your way, you caught your reflection in one of the shop windows. Your face shown bright pink and you had to admit, it was obvious you were smitten. 

Not that anyone who knew you would be surprised. You were ever the hopeless romantic, but somehow you never ended up falling in love with anyone. No matter the amount of dates you went on. You had been with rich men and poor men. Old and young. Devilishly handsome and homely. But not a single guy had ever pierced your heart in the way Johnny Castle, Noah Calhoun, or Mr. Darcy did. Most of the time it didn’t bother you because, you reasoned with yourself, fictional men were just as good and no man would be able to live up to your imagination. Until Sam Winchester. 

You lifted your hand up to your face as you focused on the memory of him..

It was your usual routine. The alarm went off at 5AM, you quickly got ready and went for your run. You showered, ate a quick piece of toast, got dressed in your casual button down shirt and black slacks with ballet flats. By 7 you were out the door and headed off towards your families flower shop. Nothing was supposed to be out of the ordinary, but when you entered through the shop door you could already see the chaos ensuing. 

“This damn coffee maker! How am I supposed to work without caffeine?” He shouted, slamming down his fist against the table. 

You rolled your eyes. “Daddy. I can go get us some coffee if you’d like.”

You dad ran his fingers through his salt and pepper hair and shrugged. “That is kind of you princess, but I don’t want to waste my money when we have a perfectly good coffee maker here. I just need to fiddle with it for a bit.”

“Well I didn’t get the chance to get any coffee this morning and I don’t feel like waiting for you to spend all day trying to fix that thing only to end up at Walmart buying a new one.”

Your dad shook his head. “Y/N. You know that ain’t gonna happen. But why don’t you go ahead and get yourself some coffee at that cafe down the road.”

You clutched the handles of your purse, pulling it up a bit higher onto your shoulder. “Are you sure dad?”

He moved towards you and patted you on the head. “Of course I am serious. And take your time. We don’t have any rush orders today and I know how you like to read that romance crap with your coffee.” 

“It isn’t romance crap. They are passionate fantasy narratives driven by the yearnings of a souls desire for longing and completeness.” 

“Yeah yeah. Whatever. Get going.” He waved to you and you were off. 

After ordering your usual, you started towards the corner table you often occupied. You set your cup down, rested your purse on the seat beside you and pulled out Sebastian by Anne Bishop. You hardly thumbed through two pages before someone caught your attention. Seated in a table two down from you sat a man with long brown locks, his nose burred in his laptop. He had stacks of papers and books surrounding him. Most of them looked rather old and worn. You didn’t mean to stare, but you had never seen the man there before and something about the intensity of his focus drew you in like a moth to a flame. 

You didn’t know how long you were staring at him from above the rim of your book until he looked up and his eyes mat your own. His eyes went wide, and you quickly hid yourself behind the safety of your book. Your face felt like it was on fire. The laptop had obscured so much of his face that you were taken aback when you finally saw it in its totality. 

‘He looks like a prince.’ 

You reached over with a shaking hand and took a sip of your coffee. You told yourself to calm down and continue you reading, but after a minute of attempting to read the word “the” over and over, you decided to sneak another peak. You carefully pulled the book down only to have blue jeans and plaid in front of your face. You eyes moved upward. There he was, standing right next to your table, his overstuffed bag on his shoulder and his laptop in his hand. 

You felt your jaw drop as he smiled down at you. 

“Hello miss.”

“Hello.” You squeaked out. You silently cursed yourself for that, but the man didn’t seem to notice. 

“I hope you don’t find this creepy. I don’t normally do this, but I was curious about the book you were reading and I noticed you were alone so I thought maybe I could come sit with you.” 

You swallowed back hard and nodded slowly. His smile grew wider as he set his bag down and took the seat adjacent your own. 

You hadn’t moved the book from in front of you yet, and you weren’t certain you even could. Your arm felt frozen in place, much like the rest of you. 

“My name is Sam by the way. Sam Winchester.”

“Y/N. Y/N L/N.”

So, Sebastian. Is it any good?” He pointed at the cover of your book. 

“It is, but I doubt you would be into this romance crap.”

Sam shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that. Come on. Just tell me about it.”

You went into explaining in further detail than you had intended about Sebastian and his world. The fact he was an incubus seemed to be of particular interest to Sam. He listened so intently, his hazel eyes never leaving your face. No one had ever listen to you ramble on like this before, but Sam asked insightful questions and you even handed the book over at some point and he began to read a few passages before you told him he could borrow it. 

“Really?” 

“Sure. Not forever, but if you want to read it I think you should.”

Sam gleefully shoved the book in his bag, not noticing that his knees knocked into your own until you let out a yelp. 

“Oh shit. Sorry. I have really long legs and I forget that sometimes. Are you alright Y/N?” 

“Yeah, i am fine. Don’t worry about it.” You smiled reassuringly at him. 

Before you knew it, the two of you had been sitting their chatting for well over two hours. Your coffee had gone cold by the time, and you felt the panic set in as you looked up at the clock. 

“Oh shit. I have to get back to work!” You pushed your chair back and Sam followed suit, both of you gathering your things. Sam told you to wait one second and went back up to the register. He returned with new coffee in his hand. Was this guy even real? 

“Here. It is kind of my fault that your coffee went cold in the first place.”

“Thank you Sam.” You graciously took it. The two of you wandered out in the street. Your shop was only a block away and Sam followed you the whole way like a little excited puppy. 

“Well. Here is my stop. It was very nice to meet you Sam.” You looked down at your feet, a piece of hair falling on front of your face. 

“Let me get that.” Sam didn’t hesitate, and moved the fallen piece carefully behind your ear. The tips of his fingers grazing your ear and down your jawline before falling back to his side. 

“Thank you.” 

“Anytime. I guess I will see you around Y/N.” He started to wander off and as he walked you felt your heart throbbing in your chest. Your brain went blank for a moment before you realized you had no way of contacting him. You shuffled through your bag and pulled out a pen and ran towards him. 

“Sam! Wait!”

He turned around and you nearly ran into him. “What’s up?”

You grabbed his hand and pulled it flat. You scribbled out your cellphone number and smiled up at him. “This is for when you finish the book. Even if you finish it tonight. I am off at 6, so I can come get it whenever.”

His lips lifted upward, dimples on full display. “Sounds perfect. Thanks Y/N.” 

You dashed off before you could embarrass yourself further.

The rest of your shift, as you organized bouquets, your thoughts were drawn to Sam. The way he smelled. The smile on his face. You saw him in the sunflowers in the shop. You imagined what it would be like if he was giving you the roses you were trimming. You counted down the minutes till your shift was over so you could go home and drown yourself in the memory of him. 

You finally danced your way back to your apartment. You pulled off your shoes and set them beside the door of your apartment. You hummed as you made your way towards the fridge when you felt your phone vibrating. You looked at the screen, but the number was unfamiliar. 

“Hello?”

“Hey. Y/N. It’s, uh, Sam. Sam Winchester. From this morning.” Though you couldn’t see him, you were certain by the way he sounded that he was nervous. 

You leaned yourself against the fridge. “Of course. Hello Sam. How can I help you?” 

“So I haven’t finished that book, but I was wondering if maybe you were hungry we could go grab a bite to eat and maybe read some of it together.”

It didn’t take you more than a second to tell him yes. “Of course Sam. I would love that. I am actually about to make dinner. Are you a fan of veggie lasagna by any chance?”

“If you make it? Of course I am a fan. Text me your address and I will come over. I can stop by the store and grab some salad stuff and garlic bread.” 

“Perfect. I look forward to seeing you soon.” 

“Not as much as I look forward to seeing you.” 

With that you both hung up, and you clutched the phone to your chest. All of that dreaming about Mr. Darcy and reading about falling in love was nothing compared to the blossoming feelings burning in your chest. No book ever did justice to this experience. 

‘Sam Winchester. The man in my very own romance story.’


End file.
